


Complementary

by Sorceted



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, basically its almost 6.4K of meta turned decent-at-best fic, madara and leo getting to be good senpai, me and my friend brainstormed a fake event around these four, or. well. ex-senpai. this is stars!! timeline, so everyone's a year older, this is a very barebones summary of the main plot points in said event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorceted/pseuds/Sorceted
Summary: "...Sora and Mitsu-chan can always tell what the other wants, but this time Sora messed something up.”Leo simply hums in response, pulling up the sleeve of his hoodie so he can keep doodling.
Relationships: Harukawa Sora/Tenma Mitsuru, Mikejima Madara/Tsukinaga Leo, both of them aren't super heavy, just mostly implied - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Complementary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my good friend and hag hanbee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+good+friend+and+hag+hanbee).



> a small fic based on a fake event written by me and my friend. focus are on the characters, so the pairings are pretty light, but they're definitely implied!! 
> 
> it's intended to have mitsora 5*s and madaleo 4*s but we never decided on 3*s that were relevant enough to include here, and i didn't feel like expanding too much when it felt more streamlined to just focus on these four :) 
> 
> ANYWAY please have some kind of fun with this even if it's very self indulgent

Excited voices keep bubbling out from inside the backstage room of the venue set up specifically for planning, the noise catching Leo’s ears as he walks by. Peeking in through the open door he spots Mitsuru; energetically pinning a few photos of a city at night onto the board of ideas, and Sora; watching him with wide eyes and an even wider grin, nodding when Mitsuru looks at him and chirps something that Leo can’t quite hear from his hiding spot.

He’s so busy watching them that he doesn’t notice the figure approaching until it drapes itself over his back, cooing softly at the scene inside. Leo squawks, but the sound is quickly muffled by a warm and calloused hand pressing over his mouth, mischievous teal eyes meeting his when he looks up over his shoulder. He’d know that smug face anywhere.

_ “Mama..!”  _ He whisper-yells, before stepping away from the door to continue,  _ “ _ You really need to stop sneakin’ up on people, y’know?! It’s seriously scary, even if it’s always fun to see you~”

Madara chuckles, hand patting Leo’s shoulder just a tad too hard as he apologizes. Turning back to the door, he hums thoughtfully at the two younger boys running around and brainstorming. Leo’s face is slightly more serious when he glances through the gap in the door, green eyes locked intensely on the board.

“Hey, Mama… Are you having the same thought as I am?”

“Hm? What do you meaan?”

“...It’s just, those two. They’re, like…”

“You don’t feel comfortable letting them make the decisions of where to take the theme of the live by themse~lves?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Leo’s eyes are steely, but Madara only gives him a blank look in return. Looking back inside, he sighs.

* * *

Madara’s sitting around at the front of the audience seats, watching Leo run about onstage and wave some kind of mic setup around. He’s usually not on the tech team- especially when they aren’t in need of a heavy lifter- but even he can vaguely recognize the contraption as the one Leo usually uses to test and record the acoustics of new venues. It’s probably more important than Madara gives it credit for, but Leo  _ does _ look just short of ridiculous running around like that with those clunky headphones on.

He looks around, maybe a tiny bit curious about the layout. It’s supposed to be a pretty new building (which explains Leo’s extensive testing, he figures) and he hasn’t gotten many chances to check this place out yet since the live’s still pretty early in planning, after all. The people who sent the job request for the idols of Ensemble Square had some kind of weird, not at all coherent theme for the live, and so part of the work ended up becoming for the idols to make it up themselves.

Madara scoffs.  _ Don’t just send a half-assed proposal like that and expect  _ us _ to fix it…  _ Well, at least Sora and Mitsuru had been quick to jump on the opportunity, dragging Leo and Madara with them in the process as Anzu decided they’d be the most efficient at keeping those two in line, with both other members of Switch and the three other Ra*bits having other stuff to do. Madara feels a little weird about the whole thing, but he’s gotten into a weird habit of being unable to tell Anzu ‘ _ no _ ’ these days. A little funny, considering their dynamic during his third year at Yumenosaki.

He cringes at his past self before getting up, eyeing Leo onstage. A small smirk crawls onto his face as he watches Leo crawl around, definitely getting distracted by something silly as he’s prone to do when left unchecked. Maybe it’s time for a wake-up call, hm?

“LEO-SAAAN~!” 

Leo winces, scrambling around to glare at Madara as he takes his headphones off. Madara waves apologetically, but he can’t stop the smile on his face from growing as his mind compares Leo’s angry fussing to the visual of a wet cat.

“Sorry, sooorry~ I was just checking on you so you don’t get carried away. You didn’t come here just for yourself, riight?” He tilts his head, question genuine. Leo had mentioned this being some kind of favor, but forgot to elaborate on their way here.

“Yeah, I’m checkin’ it out for Sora! He was worried about hiding the sound of potential engines in here, or if it’d echo too much and we’d have to fake the engines moving by adding spinning fans or something along those lines.”

“...Engines? They’re bringing engines in here?” 

That’s… new.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Didn’t Mittsu talk to you about all of that stuff just the other day..?”

“Mitsuru-san came to tell me about the plans, but there was no talk of an engine.”

“Let me guess, no racer theme at all?”

“Far from it.” Climbing up the stairs to the stage, Madara sighs. So it’s like that, huh. 

“...”

“Leo-san..?”

“Mama, they’re gonna be meeting about this and putting their halves of the live on the table tomorrow, but I don’t like how it’s looking at all.”

Madara hums in response, looking out over the empty audience. 

“I guess the best thing is just to hope this doesn’t go off the rails, but-” Leo undoes his ponytail, anxiously running his hands through the orange mess before retying it. “You know how this stuff can get, don’t you. Especially between people like them.”

Another hum. Madara reaches out to take Leo’s hand in his own, squeezing it in a way that he hopes is reassuring. He doesn’t think it’s their place to intervene, not yet.

“Let’s hope, indeed.”

* * *

Sora’s hands fidget with the papers in his hands as he bounces down the hall, Madara having to walk slightly quicker than usual to keep up with him. He’s tried to sneak glances at the plans over Sora’s shoulder, but he’s either very unlucky or Sora’s noticed his efforts to snoop, consciously hiding the papers from Madara’s eyes out of some cruel sense of humor.

When Sora opens the door to the main stage, he immediately runs out to Mitsuru, the two of them starting some elaborate handshake that Madara can never seem to wrap his head around. Leo’s sitting on one of the equipment cases at the other end of the stage, and Madara walks over to let Sora and Mitsuru chatter in peace. Leo welcomes him with a grin, but there’s a nervous edge that Madara can’t help but notice.

“Leo-san, do you need anything? This might be a looong conversation, if our suspicions are correct.” 

“Ah, just my water bottle! It’s over there, on the other side of the stage. I’d get it myself, but I’ve been running around all morning and Mama’s always so strong~, and full of energy~, and-” Leo grasps Madara’s arm in a mock swoon, eyes batting up at him dramatically as Madara laughs.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go get it for you. Leo-san, you hard worker, you~” At that, Leo immediately lets him go, grinning in a cat-like manner at Madara until he leaves.

He doesn’t get further than rummaging through the small collection of water bottles for Leo’s signature green one-  _ there should be a smudged alien drawing on the bottom _ , he reminds himself- before Mitsuru’s voice rings out in the hall.

“What do you  _ mean,  _ ‘what’s this’? Isn’t it good?”

“Sora’s just… Mitsu-chan, you-”

“C’mon, let me see yours, Sora-chan~ Since it’s you, I bet it’s all-”

There’s a moment of silence when Madara turns to face the two boys on center stage, Mitsuru looking over Sora’s proposal with an unreadable expression.

“Sora-chan, why is yours all weird? Look, why should this be here..?!” Mitsuru thrusts the rearranged papers back into Sora’s face, finger tapping one of the pictures. “It doesn’t fit at all..! Didn’t we agree on the theme?”

Sora bristles slightly, moving Mitsuru’s hands aside to push Mitsuru’s own papers back at him.

“Sora doesn’t get yours either, Mitsu-chan! It’s not like you at all..!! The theme was ‘future’, right? Sora can’t see any of the future in this plan, it’s all just stuff that Sora’s done before. Honestly, Mitsu-chan’s plans are boring!” He huffs, moving to take his own plan back from Mitsuru, but Mitsuru gnashes his teeth and holds the papers up, his slight advantage in height making them unreachable for the shorter boy.

“Say that again, Sora-chan. I double-dare you.” 

Sora just glares in return, keeping his mouth shut as he steps back. But then he’s rushing Mitsuru, using him as a wall to claw his way up until he drags his plans right out of Mitsuru’s hand, loose pictures scattering as Mitsuru stumbles back and cries out. The cries quickly turn into yelling as soon as Sora’s back on the ground, Mitsuru’s hands holding onto his papers so hard his knuckles turn white.

Madara thinks it’s about time to intervene. Giving Leo a look across the stage, both of them carefully approach the increasingly heated pair.

“Mitsuru-san, please just-”

“Sora, don’t-”

Mitsuru whips around to face Madara, face twisted into an angry parody of his usual expression, teeth bared and eyes burning.

“Mike-chan-senpai, be  _ quiet! _ It’s not your problem to solve, so just  _ leave _ already!”

Leo’s words catch in his throat when Sora glares at him, fists clenched around his messy bundle of papers and his eyes colder than Leo’s ever seen them.

“Sora thinks Leo-san needs to learn when something is his business and not. Right now Sora has a lot to talk about with Mitsu-chan, and noone gets to interfere..!”

“ _ You  _ have a lot to talk about with  _ me _ _?!”_

They both turn back to each other, tension in the room rising back up before it rapidly deflates. Mitsuru takes a shaky step back before turning on his heel, dashing out of the room with Madara in hot pursuit. He’s not exactly hard to follow, the pained yelling echoing through the hallways and his papers spilling wherever he goes.

Sora doesn’t turn to watch him leave, eyes still glaring blankly into the opposite wall. Leo shuffles awkwardly, but as soon as he takes a step forward Sora hurries off as well, scrambling out of the room through a different exit. Leo sighs, knowing full well that that door only leads to a backstage area. 

Giving Sora some time to breathe is probably his best bet.

* * *

Madara checks a door. Yet another storage space. He swears he’s seen this exact room at least three times by now, and regrets stopping to gather all of Mitsuru’s fallen papers and pictures to the point where he lost sight of him. It’s not like they could’ve gone anywhere.

Letting his head rest against the wood, Madara groans and pulls his phone out.

  
  


_ Fat Tits Mikejima - 2:43pm :  _ _ Leo-san _

_ Wait, you changed my name again?  _ **_Now?_ **

_   
_

_Tsukinaga_ 🦁 _\- 2:44pm :_ _no, yesterday_

_ i know im stupid but please  _

_ anyway. u lost track of him right _

_Fat Tits Mikejima - 2:44pm :_ _Yeah_

_ You still have Sora-san with you, I hope? _

_Tsukinaga_ 🦁 _\- 2:45pm :_ _nope_

  
  


Madara groans again. Of course. He feels himself overthinking, a faint panic settling in until he registers that his phone’s buzzing wildly.

  
  


_ Tsukinaga  _ 🦁  _ \- 2:45pm :  _ _ well hes kinda locked into a dead end so _

_ im not worried _

_ why do u ask _

_ ? _

_ ?? _

_ mama…??? you there _

_ hello??????? _

_ earth to sexy beast _

_ searchin…. _

_ bing bing _

_ no sexy found! _

_ ... _

_ did you get killed or smth _

_ did he kill you _

_ seriously _

_ mama if you’re dead i’m going to kill you _

_ going to bring you to rittsu _

_ get you resurrected _

_ with some weird vampire shit _

_ and then kill you again _

_Fat Tits Mikejima - 2:49pm :_ _No, just thinking_

_ Ugh… That kid’s so damn fast these days _

_ Maybe I should be lucky we’re not in track together  _ _ anymore, he could probably beat me _

_Tsukinaga_ 🦁 _\- 2:50pm :_ _u say that as if u dont want him to_

_ anyway. u tried calling him, ya? _

  
  


...That’d make an awful lot of sense, wouldn’t it.

  
  


_Tsukinaga_ 🦁 _\- 2:51pm :_ _gunna take that silence as a no, chief_

_ i see u typing, but u can thank me later  _

_ u have a rabbit to catch _

_ dense motherfucker _

_Fat Tits Mikejima - 2:51pm :_ _That’s a little harsh, don’t you think..?_

_ But to be fair, I  do feel pretty stupid _

_Tsukinaga_ 🦁 _\- 2:51pm :_ _as u should_

_ but thas for later!!! call him _

_Fat Tits Mikejima - 2:51pm :_ _Alright. Thanks, Leo-san_

  
  


_Tsukinaga_ 🦁 _\- 2:52pm :_ _G_

_ O _

Madara sighs as he pulls up the phone call app, scrolling through his surprising list of contacts- the amount has increased drastically from a year ago- until he hits the right section, Mitsuru’s name catching his eye immediately. Pressing the call button, his heart twists anxiously in his chest until he hears a faint echo, some tokusatsu theme that he faintly remembers from somewhere, thinking to himself that it would fit more in line with Chiaki’s tastes than Mitsuru’s. Well, maybe Madara just doesn’t know enough about Mitsuru’s hobbies.

His shoes clack firmly against the floor as he runs, ears straining to figure out where the tune is coming from. The call keeps cutting off, Mitsuru probably hitting the ‘refuse call’ button every time it starts back up, and when Madara’s pretty sure he knows which door Mitsuru’s hiding behind the call refuses to connect at all. Did he turn his phone off..? 

Not to mention that the door is locked. Madara silently apologizes to the owners of the venue as he pulls a hairpin out of his left braid, fingers nimble as he presses it through the lock until it pops open. He’s not proud of it, but sometimes his old drastic measures come in handy.

Inside, Mitsuru’s nowhere to be found. Madara closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the earful he’s going to get if someone finds out he  _ technically _ broke into a storeroom full of expensive equipment. And couldn’t lock it again from the outside. Meaning that if anyone takes anything from the room, he’s  _ technically _ responsible. Sigh.

But then there’s a quiet sound of shuffling, and Madara perks up, his eyes watching the floor carefully as he walks further in, locking the door behind him to make sure they’re alone. 

“Mitsuru-san..?”

There’s the sound of shuffling again, and this time Madara sees something move behind one of the stacked speakers over by the corner of the room. He approaches, Mitsuru seemingly ignoring the call of his name in favor of staring at the wall.

_ He doesn’t want Mike-chan-senpai here. He wants him to leave, and he wants him to leave  _ now.  _ He’s loud, and annoying, and touchy, and refuses to see Mitsuru as an equal. _

Mitsuru only sulks harder, hoping Madara will get the message. He’s not wanted, not needed, Mitsuru just needs to run and sulk and run some more before he can go back. 

But then he hears Madara settle down behind him, further away than he expects, and Mitsuru begrudgingly throws a glare over his shoulder at his ex-club leader. A ‘what-do-you-want’ glare. A ‘just-get-out-already’ glare. But the look he gets in return is so different that it gives Mitsuru whiplash, Madara’s eyes soft and sad as he watches him. His whole energy is different, arms wrapped around his legs in a modest way and his shoulders a tad hunched as he tilts his head.

“Mitsuru-san. Are you ready to talk? If you need more time, I can wait.”

Mitsuru blinks. That’s an odd way for Madara to put anything. It’s like he came here to listen instead of talking endlessly about things Mitsuru can’t understand no matter how hard he tries. His voice is low, quiet, but Mitsuru doesn’t feel like he’s being talked down to for once. He worries his lower lip between his teeth, eyes glancing back down at his hands- they’re scratched red, so he moves to fiddle with the buttons on his sleeves instead- and Madara hesitantly reminds him to breathe.

“I-... I just wanted Sora-chan to feel at home. Neither of us are very good at, like, handling changes? So I tried to make it kind of familiar to the stuff Switch does, because it’s all so cool! Like, with the lights and the-” He makes a blooming motion with his hand and a fizzling sound effect. “The  _ blare _ , y’know?”

Madara doesn’t even consider correcting him. If he can understand Mitsuru and what he’s trying to tell him, is there a need to?

“But, Sora-chan- He-... He really got on my nerves, yanno! I tried my best to make it a live that’d let him express himself, y’know how he’s always talking about showing the audience his world? Yeah, that!” Mitsuru settles down, deflating again. “I thought that by making it feel like a cool futuristic movie with bright lights and colors, it’d help Sora-chan do something he wants to do… What’s wrong with wanting to help him!”

Madara fiddles with his thumbs while he thinks, before carefully speaking up.

“Sorry if this is rude, but-… Mitsuru-san, did you ever  _ ask  _ Sora-san what he wanted? Assuming things is fine and all, but weren’t the two of you supposed to plan this together?”

The shorter boy flares up, turning towards Madara with his fists clenched.

“Of course I discussed it with Sora-chan!! We met up many times to discuss the live-”

“A-Alright, settle doown.” Madara raises his hands- palm-out in a show of peace- and Mitsuru huffs before settling back down. 

“It’s just- You see, Leo-san and I were in the area for some of those conversations, and… frankly, you were both being really vague. It's like you were both egging each other on, but neither of you were actually listening to and thinking about what was being said..? Sometimes it gets like that, between really, reaally good friends.” Madara shuffles a little, turning slightly toward Mitsuru and giving him a sheepish smile.  “Me and Leo-san are the same, but you and Sora-san really just run off into your own little world, y’knoow? So we didn’t know what to do at all~”

Mitsuru can only look at him, blinking as his mind runs through the conversations he’s had with Sora lately.

“About the argument... I’m not really sure about why it escalated. But don’t you think Sora-san prooobably felt the same way about his idea that you feel about your own? Mitsuru-san, did you ever ask Sora-san why his plan ended up like it diid? You wanted him to ask you that, didn’t you. Then, why wouldn’t he feel the saame?”

The silence is heavy as Mitsuru fidgets, shifting in his seat until he seems to deflate even further, quietly shuffling up to Madara. His body slowly teeters, letting his head gently fall until it hits Madara’s shoulder. 

“... I really messed up, huh.” His voice is small, quiet, but he’s close enough for Madara to hear clearly anyway. “Sora-chan really just wanted me to be happy, but I- I just  _ had _ to go and get all angry and embarrassing over it, like some kid… I bet Sora-chan doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, he was so  _ angry _ …”

Madara’s arm wraps around Mitsuru’s shoulders, pulling him closer so gently that Mitsuru could pull away at any moment with minimal effort, but Mitsuru lets himself get pulled up against Madara, burrowing his face into the fabric covering Madara’s much broader shoulder. The hand resting comfortably on Mitsuru’s own shoulder squeezes carefully, as if it’s afraid of cracking him.

“Hey, It’s alright. Sora-san’s a good person, isn’t he~? If so, he’ll definitely hear you out. You two will be able to come to a satisfying conclusion, I know it. You’re both good kids, good people…  _ You’re both so good. _ ”

Mitsuru feels something warm well up inside him at just how fond his ex-upperclassman sounds, his own arms wrapping around Madara in return as he lets a shaky sigh out, fists clenching in the fabric of Madara’s jacket. He’s really not half bad, this guy. Not when he’s quiet.

* * *

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Leo stretches. Well, he’s already been putting this off for way too long. No reason to keep standing around, is there?

Opening the door to the backstage, Leo steps in as quietly as he can, closing the door to make sure Sora can’t rush out while he’s searching. The area is dark as soon as the door shuts behind him, and Leo faintly remembers Sora being upset with him over some prank where he turned off the lights out of nowhere, so…

He snickers as he fishes his phone back out so soon, maybe his dad really  _ was _ right about today’s youth and their cellphones after all. Flicking the flashlight on, he checks around the space, spotting the light switch on the far side of the wall, near the other entry to the stage. Well, Sora sure didn’t escape through there, or Leo definitely would’ve noticed. Trying his best not to trip over the equipment, Leo maneuvers around wires and boxes, flashlight flicking around his legs until a pale face stares back up at him, eyes empty and dull. 

If Leo were anyone else- like Sou~, or someone equally anxious- he probably would’ve made some embarrassing noise and stumbled back and tripped like a real idiot. But as is he just stands there, staring down at Sora with an unimpressed look on his face. They’re locked in a silent staredown until Leo realizes that, ah, he’s probably blinding Sora. He moves the light away from his face, but as soon as Sora’s not in the light anymore he scrambles, arm shakily reaching out for Leo’s leg. So he really  _ is _ scared of the dark.

Leo moves just a few feet away, trying to ignore Sora’s distressed shuffling as he reaches for the light switch. When the lights come on, Leo turns back around to see Sora visibly relax, slumping down and pulling himself back to lean against one of the equipment cases. He eyes Leo hesitantly, looking away as soon as Leo tries to keep eye contact. Alright, that’s fair. Leo just won’t look at him, then.

Sitting down with his legs crossed next to Sora, but being careful to not make contact unless Sora initiates, Leo pulls out a marker from his pocket and starts doodling in his palm- tentatively humming out a melody, adding whichever notes he thinks might fit to a music staff. He feels Sora’s eyes on him, on his work, but he doesn’t look back. 

After a while, Sora shuffles up so they’re shoulder-to-shoulder, and Leo takes it as a sign that contact’s been initiated. 

“You’re being kind of unreasonable, you know? Getting all pouty like that. Friends will always have arguments, there’s nothin’ you can do to change that. You and Mittsu seem real close, too, so it’s not like you won’t be able to make up with him.”

“...Leo-san’s surprisingly slow, isn’t he.” Leo squawks indignantly, head whipping around to gape at Sora before he catches himself and quickly looks back down, pouting childishly as he doodles aimless patterns on the back of his hand. Sora keeps going, not paying him any mind.

“See, it’s not that Sora fought with Mitsu-chan. That’s happened before, but usually one of them just challenges the other and they get their bad colors all tired out by wrestling or competing on the track.” Sora fidgets a little with the hem of his pants. “But, this time… it wasn’t just a normal fight, where one of them were keeping something hidden. Sora-... He read Mitsu-chan wrong, Leo-san. That’s never happened before. Sora and Mitsu-chan can always tell what the other wants, but this time Sora messed something up.”

Leo simply hums in response, pulling up the sleeve of his hoodie so he can keep doodling.

“Mitsu-chan and Sora even talked about it, so many times! It just wouldn’t make sense for him to go for all that shiny colorful stuff, not at all. You know Mitsu-chan loves to move around, don’t you, Leo-san? Sora’s gotten better at sitting still, but Mitsu-chan can’t really do that… Sora doesn’t totally get how it works, but Mitsu-chan works best if he gets to be active, so Sora really wanted to let him be as free as possible!” Sora’s feet tap against the ground in excitement at the thought. 

“Sora wanted him to be able to ‘dash dash’ all over the place, like he always does… He really likes that part of Mitsu-chan, you see.” 

Leo sneaks a glance at Sora, and the pink tips of his ears makes Leo smile knowingly as he returns to his arm. 

“And Mitsu-chan never disagreed with Sora! He knows what Mitsu-chan looks like when he’s worried or indecisive, or when he doesn’t like an idea. His colors get all blotted, like someone’s dripping watercolor into Sora’s eye, but there was none of that at all… He totally agreed with Sora..?” Sora hides his face in his knees, hand shakily grabbing onto the bunched-up sleeve of Leo’s hoodie as his voice gets smaller. “But maybe-… maybe Sora didn’t know Mitsu-chan as well as he thought.  _ That’s  _ the scary part, Leo-san. Sora’s come to love the colors again, but if they’ve started lying to him- if he- if Sora can’t trust his eyes…”

“Sora. I can’t tell you 100%, definitely, with certainty, that your eyes won’t  _ ever _ be wrong. But this time, that’s definitely not what your issue is. You’re fine.”

Sora’s head jolts up, looking at Leo with wide eyes as if he’s trying to look right into Leo’s brain to understand what he’s thinking. Not that he has to. Leo has every intention of telling him what went wrong.

“Tell me, did you ever listen properly to what Mittsu was telling you? Me and Mama heard some of your talks- and you two seriously sound like you have a different language sometimes- but from what I could see you were both too focused on your own interpretation of the theme to consider that the other might not understand if you don’t communicate properly.” Leo gently picks up the papers of Sora’s plan that weren’t scattered across the stage (shoot, Leo should have picked those up) and looks them over. “You weren’t thinking of yourself while making this at all, did you? It screams Mittsu, from the white and clear colors to the futuristic racer theme, but all of that seems like it’d be taxin’ on your senses, yeah?”

Sora blinks before nodding slowly, looking down at the floor. Leo flips through the pages again before setting them back down on the ground, head gently thumping against the equipment case behind them as he chuckles softly.

“Well, what if Mittsu’s the-same-but-opposite. Like, constructin’ this huge thing with the lights for you because he knows that’s how things are made to cater to you.” Leo tilts his head to look at Sora, who looks back at him with a stunned expression. “Neither of you two wanted to be selfish, and instead just wanted to make sure the other was havin’ a good time. That's not a bad thing, and it doesn't mean you don't get each other. If anything, this just proves you both like each other too much to compromise properly.”

“But, Sora, not everything can be solved by just instantly “knowing”. Your eyes are great, a super-useful tool that noone else has! But just  _ because _ noone else has them, your communication with others is always gonna be one-sided if you don’t use your words properly, too.” Leo reaches out, marker-smudged pointer finger tapping the tip of Sora’s nose. 

“I’m obviously not as good at just ‘getting’ people's feelings as you are, but I can read Mikejimama pretty well these days, y’know? Even then, I keep having to talk things over properly so he doesn't just fly off the handle and do something that'll make things worse! Back before we were besties, it just kept happening~ He’s an impulsive guy when he gets passionate, just like Mittsu, so us who are bad at communicatin’ need to make sure hotheads like them get the whole picture, the way we see it.”

Sora blinks, eyes attempting to focus on the finger on his nose before he snaps out of it, shuffling away and wiping at his eyes.

“Sora-… thinks he gets it.”

“H-Hey, are you alright? You’re not crying, are you? Ah, did I go too far... I didn’t mean to make you upset-”

Leo’s interrupted by Sora crashing into him, head shaking furiously against Leo’s shirt as he hugs him tight.

“It’s not Leo-san’s fault at all! It’s just- Sora’s been really dumb! If he just talked things over with Mitsu-chan, they wouldn't have fought at all! And- Mitsu-chan, he-” Sora looks up, Leo looking back down at him patiently. “Mitsu-chan.. seemed madder than Sora's ever seen him before. What if he stops being Sora’s friend, Leo-san? Sora doesn't want that to happen!”

Leo sighs, reaching a hand up to awkwardly pat Sora’s head.

“It can’t be that bad. Remember what I said earlier? He’s a hothead, just like Mama. They’re impulsive, but they get cold feet  _ really _ quickly if they like you. I bet that as soon as Mama’s dragged him back here, he’ll be dying to talk to you and set things right.” His eyes squint in a catlike fashion as he grins. “I’ll make sure to get you to him, and you can explain it  _ all _ to each other, yeah?”

Sora doesn’t reply, hiding his face back in Leo’s shirt. Leo hums, the hand on Sora’s head moving down to pat between his shoulder blades as Sora clings to him. He needs a bit more time, huh? That’s fine. 

Looking up at the ceiling, Leo wonders if- just maybe- he’s gotten a little better at being a senior over the past year.

* * *

When the four of them meet up again in front of the stage, the mood is heavy. Mitsuru and Sora are both standing in place; the floor incredibly interesting to both of them all of a sudden as Leo walks over to pat Madara on the arm out of pity. He gets a pointed look in return, but Madara’s composure quickly shatters as Leo expertly quirks just one of his eyebrows at him, Madara being forced to quickly look away to keep his shit together.  _ Come on, Leo-san, this is serious. _

Leo sticks his tongue out before looking over at their juniors, the two of them very clearly not used to being the source of such a depressive atmosphere. Mitsuru keeps fidgeting, obviously wanting to say something but overthinking it, but Sora just looks like a deer in headlights. Leo feels himself wanting to go over and push them together, but before he can even entertain the thought Madara’s hand is on his shoulder, the man himself giving Leo a warning stare. 

Yeah, he got it already. No point if they don’t do it themselves, right? Geez.

Mitsuru’s palms are sweaty, face feeling like it’s on fire as he glances up at Sora. There’s so much he wants to say, but he’s just too embarrassed, shame rising like bile in his throat at how Sora can’t seem to look at him. He really messed up, huh… Glancing at Madara and Leo, all he gets is a determined thumbs-up in return. Great,  _ super _ useful.

Is there even anything he can say at this point..? He knows Madara gave him the rundown of some ‘I’m sorry’-phrases on the way back, but using them feels wrong when he’s in front of Sora like this… No matter what he says, it’s gonna sound wrong and weird and Sora isn’t gonna want to come over to his house anymore to play racing games on the TV in Mitsuru’s living room. Mitsuru wants to melt away and disappear just thinking about it.

He comes to a realization then, a pretty simple one. He’s thinking too much. Why’s he doing that, when  _ not _ thinking is his strong point?

Sora yelps as he’s tackled, crashing to the floor together with Mitsuru. Instinctively, he hooks his legs behind Mitsuru’s and rolls them over, hands slapping Mitsuru’s away whenever he tries to play dirty by tickling Sora. Madara and Leo are shouting something, but it’s muffled as he tumbles around with Mitsuru, a bubbling feeling erupting in his chest at how Mitsuru’s rowdy laughter blooms into cascades of oranges and yellows. He has no color of his own, Sora knows this, and yet he feels Mitsuru’s color change as he laughs, the colors frizzling together at the edges like red and green do on an old television. Complementary colors.

“Sora-chan..! I’m super-duper sorry-!!” Mitsuru’s flipped over again, cutting the apology short with wheezing laughter. “I’m sorry- geh- for not talking to you about how I feel..!”

“Sora too, Mitsu-chan~!” Flip, flip. “Sora hated not being able to tell what Mitsu-chan thought, but- ah- he knows he was wrong too, y’know!” Mitsuru’s managed to pin him to the ground, but Sora’s core strength is enough to roll him off, and the tumbling continues. “He should’ve known that Mitsu-chan knows even less than Sora does! Sora was selfish!!”

“You callin’ me stupid, huh~?”

“Not more stupid than Sora~!”

A pair of strong arms grip Mitsuru, pulling him away from Sora as a pair of skinnier arms pull Sora himself away. But even as Madara scolds them for starting a wrestling match near sensitive equipment, Mitsuru and Sora keep playfully kicking at each other and giggling, Leo clearly having problems keeping Sora properly contained.

“Hey, you two~ Don’t forget what we talked aboout?” Madara’s voice is chiding, but not cold. Mitsuru and Sora look at each other before bursting into another fit of laughter, and Madara just sighs as he sets Mitsuru down, patting his back and telling him and Sora to run ahead to the planning room. He and Leo will get there after they’ve made sure none of the stage equipment got damaged, but they should get started. They have a lot to work through, after all.

* * *

When Leo enters the planning room, Mitsuru and Sora are chattering to each other in front of the board, trying to explain to each other what this and that  _ actually _ meant. They’re clearly wracking their brains trying to figure this out, and the smudged marker ink on their faces is totally not at all a sign of a second wrestling match or anything. They’ve been thinking, they swear~

Madara hums, looking over the board as he starts asking questions about this or that. The two second years chirp out answers as best they can, but trying their hardest to digest weeks of information into one solid concept is clearly not going too well. Plucking a few of the key pictures off the wall, Madara hands them to Leo and tells him to go spread them out on the table.

They crowd around the pictures, Leo immediately pointing out similarities in the designs. See, this pattern here, and that here… If that color scheme was more like- uh- Mama, please show them the outfits from that one live we did, the glowy one… Yeah, that! It could pass off as the same set, yeah?

Mitsuru and Sora watch in awe as they piece together a theme, an oddly well-developed cyberpunk city unfolding under their noses as they slowly but surely take over, quick learners’ brains taking notes without realizing it until Madara and Leo’s been hands off for several minutes without them noticing, happily scribbling over old plans to combine their ideas into one coherent concept.

After a while, their ex-upperclassmens’ absence is finally noticed, and Mitsuru looks around as Sora tries to gather their papers into a proper pile. He notices them watching him and Sora from over by the board, cleaning up after the creative rampage that seemed to have taken ahold of both their juniors. When he and Sora run over to them to show the finished work, Leo flicks through the pages with bright eyes, pointing at some probably-vandalized picture with a snort, Madara’s lips quirking into a smirk despite how hard he’s trying to stay professional.

Handing the stack back to Sora, Leo grins.

“Well, it’s full marks from me! Don’t know about Mikejimama, though. He’s a tough customer y’know, since he basically does this stuff for a living-” Madara wraps an arm around Leo’s shoulders, the hand slapping over his mouth.

“Don’t listen to him. You get well above a passing grade, at least for your first time planning a live without a senior’s supervisioon~”

Sora holds the stack of papers to his chest, stunned into silence until Mitsuru throws himself at him, hugging Sora so hard that he thinks Mitsuru might actually break something in his body.

“We got it, Sora-chan! I gotta tell Tomo-chan as soon as I can, he’ll be so jealous that I got to do this kinda thing before him~ Ah, and I have to show Nii-chan that I’m all grown up now..!” Mitsuru pulls back just enough to look at Sora’s face, dusted a little pink at the sudden affection. “Sora-chan, let’s go show it to everyone together when it’s all done, yeah? I wanna see the Shishou-guy’s and Ao-chan-senpai’s reactions, too!”

Sora nods, smiling as Mitsuru grins at him, bouncing them both around. The papers are comfortably weighty in his hand, even when he wraps his free one around Mitsuru.

The colors from Mitsuru are always warm, blooming across Sora’s vision. But recently, it felt as if they were burning him from the inside out, Sora only fanning the flames until they both lost control. The Mitsuru from his memory of the fight was sparking, a high pyre, burning too hot to handle. 

But this warmth, Mitsuru hugging him, is nice. Sora can hold it in his hand without getting burned.

The colors frizzle and dance again as they laugh, and Sora thinks to himself that if he had a color, like everyone else does… He thinks he’d like it to be blue like the morning sky, to match Mitsuru’s sunset orange.

Complementary colors, or whatever.


End file.
